Avengers Assemble
by cautiousAlbatross
Summary: High School AU. After yet again causing ridiculous amounts of trouble for Principal Fury, Tony Stark is forced to join the school's hockey team. Determined to win this year, Fury just has to hope that in the end, his new team will pull together and perform as well as he knows they can. Please review and also tell me if I should continue, because I don't know if I should.
1. Hockey

**Updated/Edited version of this chapter. I've tried to reduce the amount of dialogue, so, um, tell me if this is any better? Thanks.**

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"Stark," Principal Fury began, glaring at the student lounging on the other side of the desk, "Why are you in my office _again_?"

Tony sighed, managing to somehow look both exasperated and smug.

"Um, because you told me to come here? Sir?"

"Why did I tell you to come here?"

"For the joy of my company?" said Tony, smirking.

"No, Stark, as much as it might pain you to hear it, I do not want to talk to you."

"I'll just leave, then," he said, shrugging and standing up.

"Sit back down," Fury practically growled, giving Tony a look that would have made any normal student wet his pants, "I'm not finished with you."

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me?"

"I don't. However, that doesn't change the fact that I have to."

"Right," Tony sighed, collapsing back into his chair, "What did you want to talk about?"

"The science labs."

"What about them?"

"The fact that, thanks to some contraption of yours, they are no longer."

"Oh. Right. That."

"What did you think you were doing?"

"I was just... testing my new invention."

"Need I remind you that _school is not the place_ _for your destructive toys_? Someone could have be killed."

"Well, they weren't," Tony pouted, mentally adding _And anyway, I can't test them at home._

"That's not the point. The point is that what you did was extremely dangerous, and plenty of reason for me to have you expelled."

"Oh. So... Am I expelled, then?" Tony started to look upset, wondering how he would explain this to his father.

"If you were any other student, you would be out of here so fast you wouldn't even have time to ask why you were leaving."

"Right."

"But, unfortunately, you're not any other student. You're Tony Stark."

"I know who I am."

"Not only are you the brightest student in the school-" Tony smirked "-You are also the son of the richest man in town."

"So?"

"So your father wouldn't be happy to hear you've been expelled, now, would he?"

"You can say that again," said Tony, looking morose.

"Cut the attitude, Stark. You've got two options. Either you are expelled, and have to explain exactly how you managed it to your father, or-"

Fury paused for a moment.

"Or what?" asked Tony, leaning forwards slightly.

"Or you join the hockey team."

"The hockey team? I didn't even know we had a hockey team."

_Really? _he thought, _I have to play hockey? That's my punishment?_

"It's not a very good team."

"Right. And why do I have to play on your hockey team?"

"Because, this year, we are going to win."

"Tony, why do I have to come to this hockey thing?" Bruce asked, sighing.

"Fury's making me do it for destroying the labs," explained Tony, grinning cheekily.

"Yes, but why do I have to come?"

"I am not going into a room full of jocks alone."

Tony Stark was many things, but sporty was not one. Why bother running around after a ball when you could build a robot to do it for you? Or, better yet, forget the ball, and just build a robot.

"So you're taking it out on me?"

"You're my moral support," said Tony, clapping Bruce on the back and smiling encouragingly at him.

"Great," Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes, "I didn't even know we had a hockey team."

"I don't think they're very good."

"That makes sense. Tony, we're going to be late."

"I know."

"You're not making a very good start."

"I know. Look, we're here now."

"Why is there an ice rink under the gym? Why did no one know about this?"

Tony started to make a sarcastic comment, but was interrupted by Principal Fury.

"Stark, you're late."

"I know, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Did I tell you to bring a friend?"

"No, sir."

"Right. You, what's your name? Banner?"

"Bruce Banner, sir."

"Can you play?"

"Um, a little."

Tony stared at Bruce, astonished. Bruce had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

"I didn't know you did exercise," he said, grinning. Bruce glared at him.

"Fine, then. You're on the team."

"What, just like that?"

"Yes, just like that. Now go and get changed."

"Um. I'm not very good."

"If I were looking for talent, I wouldn't have picked Stark." Tony looked affronted, despite the fact that he had never played hockey in his life. "Get changed."

"Now that you're finally ready," Fury said, glaring at Tony, "It's time for you to meet the rest of your team."

"I can hardly contain my excitement," said Tony, rolling his eyes at Bruce, who smiled sympathetically.

"Steve Rogers."

"Hi," said a tall, muscular blonde.

"Thor Odinson."

"Hello," said an even taller, more muscular blonde.

"Thor?" spluttered Tony, bursting into a fit of laughter, "What sort of a name is _Thor_?"

"You got a problem with it?"

"No, really, he doesn't," said Bruce, stepping in front of Tony, "He's just a bit of an idiot."

"Hey," objected Tony.

"Do you want to be torn into tiny pieces?" whispered Bruce, "This guy's big enough to swallow you whole."

"Are you mocking my height?" said Tony, looking Thor up and down and thinking _I could totally take him._

"I'm saying it's not a good idea to make fun of someone twice your height."

"I'm not afraid of him."

"You should be."

"Banner, Stark, _shut up_," said Fury, "I don't want to hear another word out of either of you."

Bruce glared at Tony, who grinned and shrugged. Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Rogers, Odinson, these are your new team-mates, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner."

"You mean this is the whole team?" asked Tony incredulously, "No wonder you never win."

"Stark, I told you to shut up."

"Sorry, sir."

"What are they doing on the team?" asked the slightly smaller blonde – Steve Rogers, Tony thought, although he was making an effort not to learn their names, "They don't look very sporty."

"Aren't they those two science nerds?" added the other blonde, the one with the ridiculous name.

"Stark is here because he decided that blowing up the science labs would be a good idea."

"I didn't _blow them up_," interrupted Tony, not looking at all ashamed, "I knocked them down."

Fury gave him a warning look before continuing.

"Banner is here because Stark apparently can't bear to be separated from him."

The two sporty blondes laughed. Tony looked affronted and Bruce looked embarrassed, desperately wishing that he hadn't agreed to come.

"All right, then," said Steve, "Let's see what you've got."

An hour later, Tony and Bruce were both thoroughly bruised and exhausted. Fury had left half an hour in, looking disappointed.

"Well," said Steve, "That... That could have gone better."

"I thought we were pretty good," replied Tony, making Thor laugh into his water bottle.

"There's definite room for improvement."

"Face it, Tony, we sucked," said Bruce, "I don't think we're cut out for ice hockey."

"Great. Well, you go and tell Fury that. I'm sure he'll be glad to let us go."

"You just need to practise a bit," said Steve, trying to sound encouraging. Thor laughed.

"Brilliant. I'd just love to. Because playing ice hockey is my greatest dream."

"Look, like it or not, you're on the team, and you have to at least try to do your best."

"I'm not really a team player."

"Tough. You'll just have to be."

"Well, I don't really think I do," said Tony, starting to look angry, "Seeing as this is pretty much the worst team _ever_, I don't think I have to do much except try to stay as far away from the puck as I can while the rest of you get completely slaughtered by the other team."

"And you think we're just going to stand there and let you?"

"More or less, yes." Tony grinned cockily, daring Steve to try and stop him.

"You might be used to paying for everything to be done your way, but that's not going to happen here."

"Oh yeah? You going to make me?"

"Maybe I will."

"I'd like to see you try," Tony glanced over at Bruce, laughing arrogantly.

Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. Tony turned back to Steve, grinning confidently, only to be met by Thor's fist. He reeled, clutching at his cheek.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"That was for being an arrogant prick," replied Thor, "Do you want another?"

"Thor, don't hit him," said Steve, "He's only little."

"I'll show you who's only little," growled Tony, leaping at Thor.

Bruce watched from the sidelines as Tony wildly attacked Thor, who was laughing as he responded to each of Tony's blows with one twice as hard, whilst Steve was fending off blows from both of them and trying to break up the fight. Eventually, they managed to get caught in a three-way stand off, each of them glaring angrily at the other two, and all of them out of breath.

The tension was broken by chuckling from the doorway.

"Fighting again, Thor?"

"Brother!" said Thor, looking up and grinning, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not your brother," said the slim, dark-haired boy, scowling, "I just thought I'd stop by to see you humiliate yourself. It looks like I'm in luck."

"Who is he?" Tony whispered to Steve, their fight momentarily forgotten.

"Loki. Thor's little brother. Well, adopted brother. He only found out he was adopted recently and he's been pretty pissed about it ever since."

"_Loki_? They do have a thing for wacky names in their family."

"Who's this, then? Got yourself some new team-mates? He looks a little small for ice hockey."

"Height jokes. Original. Haven't heard any of those before," said Tony, trying to look aloof and managing admirably well for someone with a bright red face covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"With his help, I'm sure you'll do _particularly_ well this year. Maybe even as well as last year."

"Well, I would ask you to join, but I'm not sure they let pre-pubescent kids on the team," countered Tony, somehow managing to look down on Loki, even though he was half a foot taller than him.

Loki glared at him for a moment, obviously trying to think of a witty response.

"Have fun with your game," he snorted, flipping his shoulder-length hair as he turned and left.

"All right," said Tony, watching him leave, "I'm in, on one condition."

"What's that?" asked Thor.

"I get to beat the shit out of your little brother."


	2. The Girl and The Other Guy

**Look, another chapter! Reviews etc? **

**Actually I'm slightly amazed that I actually wrote this, and within a few days at that. Cannot guarantee I will have the motivation to continue.**

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"You know, there's one problem with this whole ice hockey thing," said Bruce as he and Tony walked home, still sweaty from their less-than-successful first practice session.

"One problem?" replied Tony, raising an eyebrow, which Bruce ignored.

"Yeah, how are we supposed to compete with only four players? I'm no expert, but I thought you had to have six?"

"Fury'll find some more players. Probably the same way he found us," he added sourly.

"And he expects to win?" said Bruce, slowly shaking his head and ignoring the fact that it was Tony who had made him join, not Fury.

Tony just shrugged. The two continued to walk in companionable silence until they reached Tony's home.

"I still can't believe you own a whole skyscraper," said Bruce, looking up at it with an expression of deep disapproval.

"You're just jealous," replied Tony, grinning and waving at the doorman, who smiled back at him and let them into the building. Bruce wondered idly how much the doorman was paid just to smile at them and open a door, although part of him thought that putting up with Tony on a daily basis probably deserved a fairly hefty salary.

"What, of someone who lives in their own private skyscraper? Perish the thought."

"I don't live in all of it," said Tony, stepping into the lift and pressing the button for the top floor, "A lot of it's for dad's work."

"Oh, now I feel so much better."

Tony grinned at him, stepping out of the lift, and collapsed on the sofa.

"Jarvis," he said, tapping the holographic display in front of him, "Get me into the school system."

"Of course, sir," replied the AI. Bruce just tutted, shaking his head.

"All right, then. Let's have a look at Fury's emails."

"Tony, you shouldn't be doing this," sighed Bruce, sitting down next to him, "If Fury finds out, you'll be in really big trouble."

"Worse than I'm already in?" asked Tony, raising an eyebrow.

"That's not the point."

"Look, the worst he can do is expel me, right? And he won't dare do that."

Bruce gave him a questioning look.

"He doesn't want to have to deal with my dad if he does," explained Tony, "So I'm safe. As long as I keep up with this stupid hockey thing and whatever other lame punishments he decides to give me, I'm fine."

"And what would your father think about you hacking into the school system?"

Tony just shrugged, looking away from Bruce.

"Ah, bingo," he said, tapping the screen again, "Here we are. Our two new team-mates."

"What, he's found them already?" asked Bruce, leaning closer to the screen, his disapproval forgotten.

"Looks like it. Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff."

"Nata- Wait, she's a girl. We're having a girl on the team?"

"Looks like it."

"Fury really is desperate. Isn't there some sort of rule against mixed teams?"

"I can't say for a moment that I care enough about the game to know the rules."

"Who's the other one? Clint something?"

"Clint-" Tony checked the screen "-Barton. Do you know him?"

"Nope."

"Me neither. Well, let's hope they're good."

"Given the team so far, I don't have high hopes for that."

_Earlier_

"_What do you mean, you want to join the ice hockey team?" asked Principal Fury, staring at the two students sitting in front of him._

"_We mean we would like to play hockey for the school, on the school team," said Natasha, sighing heavily and giving Fury a look that would melt iron. _

"_We heard you wanted to give the team a fighting chance this year," added Clint, smiling innocently at the principal. _

"_Of course. I'm amazed the two of you want to join, but I can't say I don't need the players. Barton, welcome to the team."_

"_What about me?" asked Natasha, furious, and started to stand up, only to be pulled back into her seat by Clint._

"_Romanoff as I'm sure you are aware, this is the boy's ice hockey team. You, on the other hand, are not a boy."_

"_So?" she said, glaring at him again._

"_So you cannot play for the team."_

"_Oh, just you try to stop me," she growled, wrenching free of Clint and storming out._

"_Um, between you and me, sir," said Clint, looking away from the door and back to Fury, "You should probably let her join."_

"_Barton, I cannot bend the rules just to allow your girlfriend to play with you."_

"_She's not my girlfriend, and, uh, I think you'll really regret not letting her join."_

_Fury paused for a moment, studying Clint's face. He wasn't certain, but he thought the teenager looked almost afraid._

"_Very well," he said eventually, "I'll consider it."_

"_Thank you, sir," said Clint, hurrying out of the office._

"Ugh," said Tony, pulling a face, as he scrolled through Fury's email inbox.

"What?" asked Bruce, looking over at his friend, "You're not still looking at Fury's email, are you?"

"He's got another practice scheduled for tomorrow. To introduce our new team-mates."

"Oh. Well, it shouldn't be too bad."

"You're kidding, right?"

Bruce just shrugged. Tony made incoherent noises of frustration, and collapsed down into the sofa, flinging one arm across his face.

"Hey, what's that?" said Bruce, suddenly leaning over to the screen and pointing, "Fury's just sent himself an email."

Tony grunted, not looking at Bruce, who sighed and opened the email.

"Could Tony Stark," he began reading, glancing at his friend, "Stop reading my email and come to my office immediately."

"Ugh," said Tony, sitting up, "But school's over! I'm not going back in!"

"Um, there's more," added Bruce, "If you don't, he's going to sue you for invasion of privacy."

Tony sighed and stood up.

"Come on, then," he said, sighing again.

"Wait, I'm not coming with you!" objected Bruce, folding his arms.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. My dad would kill me. And possibly you, too."

"Fine," Bruce huffed, standing up as well, "This had better be good."

Tony rolled his eyes at Bruce, then knocked on the door to Fury's office. There was silence for a moment, and Tony began to hope that Fury wasn't there.

"Come in," said Fury, crushing Tony's hope.

"Yes, sir," replied Tony, sighing and opening the door.

"Banner, wait outside."

"Yes, sir," said Bruce, making a sympathetic face at Tony.

"Close the door."

Tony did.

"Sit down."

Tony did.

"I suppose you're wondering why you're here."

"Um, is it because I hacked into your email?"

"No. You're here because of something you read whilst hacking into my email."

"The email you sent yourself? Telling me to come here?"

"Very funny, Stark. This is about your two new team-mates."

"Oh, right. The girl and that other guy."

"Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff."

"Yeah. What about them?"

"I'm delegating the responsibility of introducing them to the rest of the team to you."

"Oka- Wait, what?"

"You are to introduce Barton and Romanoff to your team-mates."

"I have to tell those guys they're going to be playing with a girl on the team? Are you trying to get me killed?"

Fury just gave him an inscrutable look. Tony began to think that Fury might actually be a lot happier with him gone. The thought was not a comforting one.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked.

"No."

"Fine," he sighed, "But when I die, I'm telling my father it was your fault."

"You may leave," said Fury, looking exactly like someone who didn't care in the slightest what Tony Stark told his father.

"Oh, man," groaned Tony, leaning against the wall, "This is so not my day."

"What did he say?" asked Bruce, trying to look concerned.

"I have to tell the others there's a girl on the team now."

"Ouch," said Bruce, wincing sympathetically.

"Of course, you'll be helping me," added Tony, looking hopefully at his friend.

"Hmm. And did Fury tell you I should help?"

"Well, not exactly. I'm sure he meant to."

"As much as I'd love to be ripped to shreds with you, I have better things to do."

"Meanie."

"Sorry," said Bruce, looking anything but, and sauntering off.

"Hey, where are you going?" asked Tony, hurrying to catch up.

"Home. I don't know about you, but I'm late for dinner."

"You can have dinner at mine."

"I'm not sure I can stomach the sarcasm and foie gras. Besides, my mum already started cooking."

"Fine," said Tony, sighing, "Bye, then."

"See you later."

Tony watched his friend walking away for a moment, before turning and walking back home. The next day would definitely not be fun.


	3. Training

**Oh, look, another chapter! Meant to post this on Thursday, but forgot. Also, really should write more. And do my homework.**

**Also, I'm working on editing the first couple of chapters so I might do that and post it soon-ish but I'm very lazy and I've started procrastinating on everything by knitting and I'm basically a terrible human being who's going to fail AS Biology before even starting.**

**Anyway, without further ado, enjoy your crappy high school AU.**

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Tony groaned and rolled over to his alarm clock, flailing at it until he managed to hit the snooze button. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, trying to remember why he felt so terrible. What was so bad about today? Oh. Right. He was going to get lynched. Sighing heavily, he got up and dressed reluctantly, trying to put off the inevitable.

Eventually, however, he had to go to school. He arrived late to his first lesson, ignored the lecture from the teacher, and daydreamed about leaving the school and never returning. Bruce was in his second lesson, but on the opposite side of the room, so all Tony could do was give him an occasional forlorn look. Finally, at lunch, Tony was able to talk to his friend.

"I'm going to die," he said, slumping into his seat and dropping his head onto his arms, "I'm actually going to die."

"Oh, come on," said Bruce, putting his lunch next to Tony and sitting down, "It won't be that bad."

Tony turned his head to the side, stared blankly at Bruce for a moment, then pressed his face back into his arms.

"It will be exactly that bad," he said, his voice slightly muffled.

Bruce tried to think of something comforting to say, and settled for just patting Tony on the back.

"Take my body home when they kill me, okay? Oh, and I want you to say something nice at my funeral. Something about how great I had been and what a tragedy my death was."

"I'll tell them you died as you lived – complaining."

"Meanie," said Tony, sitting up and glaring at Bruce, "I'm facing mortal peril here."

Bruce just gave him a look that clearly said he was overreacting.

"I'd like to see you do it," grumbled Tony, collapsing back onto his arms.

"Not in a million years. This is going to be priceless."

"Nice to know I have your support."

Too soon, the last bell rang and school was over. Tony sighed, cast an exaggeratedly despairing glance at Bruce, who smiled encouragingly, and left the classroom with Bruce in tow.

"Hey, you," said a tall redhead wearing far more black leather than was strictly allowed by school rules, "You're Tony Stark, right?"

"Who wants to know?" asked Tony, glaring at her.

"Natasha Romanoff."

"Oh, right. You're the girl."

Natasha gave him a look that promised a long and painful death.

"I'm Clint," said the boy in equally dark clothing standing slightly behind her, "Clint Barton."

"Right," replied Tony, ignoring the hand Clint was offering him, "Let's just get this over with."

He marched off towards the gym, with Bruce following and looking back with an apologetic smile at Clint and Natasha. Natasha raised one eyebrow, gave Clint a meaningful look, sighed, and followed, with Clint trailing along behind her.

"Why are we doing this, Tasha?" asked Clint, a slight note of petulance in his voice.

"_Na_tasha," said Natasha, emphasising the first syllable and glaring at Clint, "And because I said so."

"God, you're worse than my mom."

Natasha glared at him again, not deigning to answer.

"We're here," said Tony, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but.

Bruce patted his shoulder sympathetically, then looked expectantly at Clint and Natasha.

"So?" asked Natasha eventually, still looking murderous, "Aren't we going in?"

"Well, I suppose we have to," said Tony, sighing deeply before carefully opening the door.

On the ice, Thor and Steve were skating around, each apparently trying to send the other flying as hard as possible. As the others entered, Steve went careering towards the door, narrowly missing Natasha.

"Oh, hey," he said, "Sorry. Didn't see you there."

"Sure," said Tony, rolling his eyes.

"You're late," said Thor, giving Tony an accusatory glare as he skated over to them.

"So, I've got to introduce the new members of the team," began Tony, ignoring Thor, "And, well, here they are. This is Clint – Barton, was it?" he asked, looking over at Clint, who nodded and waved at the two sporty blondes, "And this-" he took a deep breath "-is Natasha Romanoff."

Natasha glared threateningly, daring them to comment.

"Hi," said Steve, grinning cheerily at her, "Welcome to the team. Can you play?"

"A little."

"Any good?"

"I will be," she said, and the look on her face dared anyone to doubt her.

For a moment, Thor looked like he wanted to object, but he thought better of it. The glare Natasha gave the whole team made him glad he hadn't said anything.

"What about you?" asked Steve, turning to Clint, "You any good?"

"I'm all right," he said, shrugging modestly.

"Well, get changed, and we'll see what you've got."

"Natasha!" yelled Steve, although it was closer to a scream, "You can stop any time you want! Please!"

Natasha looked pityingly at Steve, who was cowering in the goal, hoisted her stick onto her shoulder, and skated to the edge of the rink.

"Well, I think Natasha should be fine, then," said Tony, smirking.

"And Clint was..." Bruce trailed off, trying to think of the words to describe Clint's performance.

"Clint was... unexpected."

"I hope by unexpected you mean brilliant," interjected Clint, flopping into the chair next to Tony.

"Unexpectedly so," said Bruce, nodding, "Why didn't you join the team before?"

Clint shrugged, saying "Didn't feel like it. This was Tasha's idea anyway."

"_Na_tasha," called Natasha from the rink, glaring at Clint.

"Well, I think we're definitely the worst on the team," said Tony, grinning at Bruce.

"Speak for yourself," huffed Bruce, who had made a reasonable goalie.

"Fine, then. _I'm _the worst on the team," said Tony, still grinning, "But not for long."

"What are you planning?" asked Bruce, eyeing Tony suspiciously, like anyone who had known him for any length of time would be.

"It's a surprise. Safe to say, it'll improve our chances by quite a lot."

"Tony, I wish I didn't have to ask, but is it horrendously illegal?"

"Not horrendously..."

"Oh, god," said Bruce, burying his face in his hands, "I'm not sure I even want to know."

"You'll find out soon enough," promised Tony, a terrifyingly gleeful expression on his face – the expression that all his teachers had quickly learnt to fear.

"Okay, all of you, back onto the rink," called Steve, causing Bruce to look up and groan.

"What now?" asked Tony, refusing to move.

"We're going to play a game. Three-on-three."

"Oh, joy," said Tony, sighing.

Reluctantly, he stood up and skated awkwardly into the rink, with Bruce gliding rather more gracefully beside him.

"What are the teams?"

"Me, Thor, and Clint. You, Bruce, and Natasha."

Natasha glared at Tony, who decided that just staying out of her way would be a good idea. They began the game, with Bruce and Tony hanging around near the goal, watching Natasha battle ferociously against the three boys.

"Do you think we should help her?" asked Bruce, looking slightly concerned.

"I think they probably need more help than she does. She's insane."

Suddenly, Clint broke past Natasha and scored, laughing at the astonished looks on Tony and Bruce's faces as the puck sailed past them.

"Oh, brilliant work," spat Natasha, skating over to them, "You know, you might want to put a _little _effort in, and, I don't know, _stop them from scoring._"

"I thought you had that pretty much handled," said Tony, shrugging insolently, "Guess I was wrong."

"Oh, did you? You thought I was fine playing three-on-one, did you? You may not have to bother with anything else in life, thanks to your rich daddy, but I for one am not going to let you just laze around while the rest of us do all the work!"

Tony turned bright red, glaring speechlessly at Natasha and trying not to let her see how much her words had actually stung him.

"Come off it, Natasha, you know Tony's no good at this," said Bruce, trying to defend his friend, "It's not his fault."

"And what's your excuse? You'd rather hang around with your friend than pull your weight on the team? What are you even _doing_ here?"

Bruce spluttered for a moment, turning positively green with rage. Then a determined expression masked his anger, and he snatched up his hockey stick. Ferociously whacking the puck along in front of him, he skated at top speed to the other end of the rink and sent it flying into the goal so hard that the back cracked.

"Is that good enough for you?" he yelled.

He hurled his hockey stick onto the rink and stormed out. After a couple of moments Tony hurried out after him, leaving the rest of the team in stunned silence.

"Well," said Natasha, "That was... unexpected."


	4. The Opposition

_AN: Wow, sorry this took... nearly a year? to update... Um... yeah..._

"What do you mean, our first match is on Saturday?" Tony spun around, staring wildly at Steve, "You've got to be kidding me."

"I wish I was," said Steve, shaking his head.

"But we've only had, what, two practices? We're going to be absolutely slaughtered."

"I thought you didn't care?" asked Bruce, giving his friend a quizzical look.

"Well, yeah, but I don't want to _lose_. Tony Stark never loses."

"Of course," said Bruce sarcastically, nodding goodbye to Steve, who had turned off the street they were walking down and started walking towards his home, giving his two team-mates a vague wave, which Tony ignored completely.

"Who are we playing, anyway?"

"How should I know?" asked Bruce, "Ask Steve."

"Hey, Steve!" Tony yelled after his retreating figure, "Steve!"

"What?" Steve stopped and turned around.

"Who are we playing?"

"Chitauri High."

"Thanks!"

Steve nodded and waved, then turned around and continued walking.

"What did he say?" asked Tony, turning back to Bruce.

"Um, Chitauri, I think."

"Right. You ever heard of them?"

"Nope," said Bruce, shaking his head.

"Me neither. How do you think it's spelt?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"I couldn't say."

"Right."

Tony opened Google and began to try different spellings. Finally, he hit on the right one, just as they turned onto his street.

"Bingo," he said, waving the phone triumphantly in front of Bruce's face, "Chitauri High. Good academic results, and known for their brilliant hockey team, who haven't lost a match in four years..."

"Oh," said Bruce, "That's not good."

"They've got a picture of the team."

"Let's see."

Bruce looked. And then he looked again, just to check. Then he looked at Tony.

"We're screwed," they said, simultaneously.

Saturday arrived, along with their first match, and Tony felt the farthest thing from ready. He contemplated just not going, but decided he might as well watch the carnage first-hand. Besides, he'd invented a prototype for the device he hoped just might win them a game, and he wanted to test it out.

He was the last to arrive in the changing rooms. He changed in awkward silence, whilst the others sat around and nervously twiddled their thumbs.

"So," he said, lacing up his skates, "Everyone else ready to get completely slaughtered?"

"No need to be so pessimistic," said Steve, frowning at Tony, "We've still got a chance."

"Yeah, right," Tony scoffed, fiddling with his hockey stick.

"We're not all as awful as you, you know," Natasha said, glaring at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry for joining," he said, rolling his eyes, "It was totally my idea. Oh, wait..."

"Tony, shut up," Bruce said, giving him an irritated look, "You're not helping."  
"I wasn't trying to."  
No one else had a chance to retort before they were called onto the rink. They skated out apprehensively, all of them avoiding Tony, who suddenly felt a little bad about what he said, although that didn't make it any less true.

"All right, men," Steve said, gathering them into a little circle.

"And women," interjected Natasha.

"And women," Steve corrected himself, "Let's just... try not to get thrashed too badly, okay?"

They all nodded sombrely, and skated into position. Tony wasn't sure exactly where he was supposed to be, so he just decided to get as far away from the large, terrifying guys on the other team as he could.

The game began before Tony could see what was going on, and he quickly found himself in the path of a large guy with a murderous expression and a hockey stick, frozen in terror. Closing his eyes, he prepared himself for the inevitable and gripped his hockey stick a little tighter, accidentally pressing the small button he'd installed earlier. For a moment, he thought it might actually work – but then he was lying on the ice and his leg felt like it was on fire and he wasn't quite sure what was happening but it sure as hell wasn't good. Then there was a lot of shouting, and a little screaming, and the game stopped being important as paramedics rushed onto the rink and gathered around Tony.

"I can see his shin bone," Bruce said, turning white, "It's sticking out of his leg."

"Why didn't he just move out of the way?" asked Natasha, with an exasperated expression.

"Did you see the _size_ of that guy?" added Clint, trying to peer around the paramedics.

"Oh, God, do you think he's okay?" asked Steve, skating up beside Bruce.

"Apart from the broken leg, you mean?" said Bruce, his voice a little too shaky for the sarcasm to be effective.

"Do we have to finish the game?" asked Clint, looking hopeful.

"I doubt Tony can play on that leg," said Bruce.

"It's not like he was actually playing," said Natasha, rolling her eyes.

"They wouldn't make us play with just the five of us, would they?" asked Bruce, sounding anxious.

"I'm not sure," said Steve, "But we don't have a substitute, so I guess it's that or reschedule the match."

As it turned out, they chose to reschedule the match for the next weekend, leaving the team with one week to either find a new player or a magic cure for a broken leg, although Tony was happy to suggest they play one man down. His team-mates were equally happy to decorate his cast with crudely drawn and obscene images, which annoyed Principal Fury and amused Tony.

On Sunday, Bruce went to visit Tony in his skyscraper, supposedly to convey the condolences of the team, but really to fret about the rematch.

"Relax, you'll be fine," Tony said, rolling his eyes, when Bruce told him he was worried about playing without him, "I mean, I was hardly contributing to the team, was I?"

"Well, we need all the help we can get against those guys!" Bruce said, resting his chin in his hands and looking glum.

"It's not like we had a chance anyway."

Bruce sighed, burying his face in his hands.

"Although..." Tony continued, a conspiratorial note in his voice, and Bruce looked up with a suddenly hopeful expression.

"What is it?" he asked, trying not to sound too excited.

"There is something I've been working on... And, well, a broken leg... Shouldn't be too much trouble..."

"What is it?" Bruce repeated, a little more frantically.

Tony just grinned, reaching under his bedside table and pressing a small button.

"This," he said, as a section of the wall swung away.

There was a moment of stunned silence, with Tony smiling smugly and Bruce staring, open-mouthed.

"And what, exactly," he said, "Is _that_?"


End file.
